


See No Evil

by alexdamien



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dystopia, F/F, Fantasy, Femslash, Horror, ONC 2021, Violence, Yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexdamien/pseuds/alexdamien
Summary: Living a dystopian world, Ilah is brought up to fear the monsters hunting people in the night. The fears, the phobias, the remnants of the terrors before the victory of the Freedom Armies.But when a new girl arrives at the city, she'll find that there might more about the terrors of the night than she could have ever thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! I'm posting here my Open Novella Contest entry as a mirror of my Wattpad entry. This will be the first time I've attempted a novella, so this will be exciting.

Ilah found Minah hanging from the tree of protection, swaying in the wind that swirled around the barren earth while the waves of the black sea whispered below the cliff.

Sushal placed her hand on Ilah's shoulder, trying to pull her back into the walls of the city, but Ilah stood frozen to the ground amid the people gathered right at the entrance to observe the latest victim of the night attacks.

"Don't look," whispered Sushal in her ear.

The whispers of all the people around them died down to noise like the whispers of the wind, and Ilah's heart twisted.

Minah shouldn't be there.

Her eyes trailed down from her friend's face, hidden by the long bloody locks of her hair, following her swaying arm. Whatever had attacked her had tore away one of her arms, and blood had flowed down from the wound torn open on her side.

She still wore the tattered remains of her factory uniform.

She still wore the same blue ribbon in her hair that Ilah had given her.

"I have to-" she started, trying to take a step forward.

Sushal pulled her back.

"No! No, let's go back. We can't be here," she whispered.

But Ilah could only see that swaying arm. Those thin fingers that she had held in her hands just the night before.

Minah shouldn't have to hang from that tree at the back of the city, in the shadows. 

She should, at least in death, be free.

Ilah pulled away from Sushal's hold and ran forward. Her friend called out her name behind her, but Illah couldn't look back. Couldn't stop herself from running to the tree and climbing up, making her way through the remains of the corpses of the victims of the other attacks until she reached Minah's body and let her down from the branch where she hung. Slowly. Letting her down on the ground as softly as she could.

Behind her, the soft rumblings of the whispers from the people at the entrance of the city rose, turning into agitated yelling. She risked a glance there, and saw the red of the Liberation guards uniforms among them.

She jumped down from the branch and pulled Minah's body up in her arms. Back at the entrance, more guards arrived. She could now count three, and saw in their annoyed eyes, they were considering how to deal with her. Saw the hesitation in approaching.

At the back, she noticed a woman in red emerging from the crowd wearing the same uniform, but wearing a red hat too, which signaled her as a higher ranked official. 

Ilah narrowed her eyes at them.

She couldn't let them take Minah away from her. She couldn't let them capture her in death, after a lifetime of imprisonment within the metal walls of the Capital. Carrying Minah's body in her arms, she walked back, towards the cliff just a few steps behind the tree, and looked down at the black waves hitting against the rock beneath.

Up ahead, the sun sank into the absolute black of the sea, turning the skies a soft pink.

"Be free among the waves," she whispered, and threw Minah's body into the sea.

She saw her descend, as if flying, only to crash among the waves. A desire to fly bloomed in Ilah's chest. She wanted to fly down into the waves like her, to feel the rush of the wind through her hair and to follow her into the depths of the black waters.

Would Minah feel alone among the waves? Would she wish to see her again as desperately as Ilah felt the need now?

She stepped forward.

Someone grabbed her arms from behind and dragged her back, slamming her against the floor and pulling her arms back, closing cuffs around her wrists.

"You are under arrest for trespassing," said a deep female voice behind her. "Under code 342 of the social harmony code. You are also being charged with endangering the social health by the touch of dead bodies, under code 459 of the sanitary restrictions code."

Ilah looked behind her to find it had been the higher officer who had pulled her back. She opened her mouth to retort. To tell her that the codes should instead speak of the right of the dead too. Of the right to not be dragged out like things to hang out as offerings for the very monsters that killed them.

"Ilah don't resist!" called Sushal from the entrance, and Ilah huffed.

"I'm not resisting," she muttered, her face still against the dirt on the ground while the other guards approached.

The officer pulled her up with a surprising strength.

"Call the sanitation department and take down the rest of the bodies," ordered the officer, not letting go of Ilah. "I want them all cremated by morning."

Ilah couldn't help the self satisfied smirk pulling at her lips.

She had been right in releasing Minah. Now, at least, she was free under the sea. Now the guards and the laws couldn't destroy what was left of her.

She went willingly to the detention center with the officer.


	2. Chapter 2

Ilah was taken into the detention center through the back door that led into the disinfection quarter right behind the main building, with it's white tiles and scent of chlorine, past a long line of people waiting to be disinfected.

For a moment, her eyes crossed with those of another girl waiting in line for disinfection. She gasped, thinking that it was Minah for a moment, before noticing the darker curls of her hair and the anger burning in her gaze. No, that wasn't Minah, and for a moment she hated her for not being the person she most wanted to see.

The officer handed Ilah to another guard, this one dressed up in a full contamination protection suit.

"Clean this one first," demanded the officer, pushing her into the hands of the guard. She took off her black leather gloves and handed them to the guard too. "And these too. She was touching dead bodies. Do it quickly. I need to take her report."

"I can call up Sanitation for the report if you'd like," said the guard, pushing Ilah towards a metal door at the right.

"No. I need to-," started the officer, but Ilah couldn't hear what the officer needed to do once the metal door closed behind her.

Inside, female guards dressed in white, wearing face masks and white plastic gloves motioned for her to approach, while holding hoses in their hands.

Ilah rolled her eyes. This was not the first time she had to be disinfected, but it was always such an annoyance. She hated it so much. How many times would she have to be disinfected like this? She had already gone through this so many times that resentment started bubbling up in her stomach at the sight of the water hoses

She froze in place, pondering for a moment if she should try and fight back. If she should keep fighting until they killed her.

Would she be able to follow Minah if she was dead? What would happen then? She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing that if she died here in the detention center, she would be burned just the same as the bodies taken down from the trees. Would the remains of her be able to escape? Would she be able to fly away in the wind as dust?

The blow of a stream of freezing water jolted her out of her thoughts of Minah's death. She roared, crying out in all her rage and her sadness and her loss.

But once they started hosing her down with disinfectant, only her rage burned at the front of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH I would be pissed off too if I got hosed down with disinfectant, too.
> 
> Hope you guys are liking it! :D


	3. Chapter 3

After the disinfection, once she was passed through the drying uv rays room and given a new uniform, Ilah expected to be taken to a jail cell for the night, but instead she was taken to the third floor, where she had never been before.

They sat her down at a desk in the corner and told her not to move.

She narrowed her eyes and looked around at the series of desks where rows and rows of people were typing reports on iron typing machines, sending up a cacophony of clacking through the whole floor. She drummed her fingers over her thighs, remembering how she had been taught how to type too.

Years ago.

Years and years and years ago, to the point that the voice of the woman who had taught her had vanished from her mind, and all that flashed through her thoughts was a sad, hesitant smile against the soft light of the rising sun.

The officer that had arrested sat down at the desk across from her, slamming down a file on the surface of the desk and jolting Ilah from her thoughts of typing and smiles that hid a shadow of sadness behind them.

"Name and code," demanded the guard, taking off her red cap.

"Ilah, 55689," she replied, rubbing at her arms to try and warm herself a bit.

"Why did you throw that corpse down the cliff?"

Ilah froze. Her thoughts screeched to a halt and an absolute silence flooded her mind so that all she could think of was how cold Minah's body had been as she carried her in her arms. How cold and stiff and-

"Did you hear me? I asked you a question," demanded the officer, her voice rising.

Ilah took a deep breath.

"I didn't think it was right," she muttered through gritted teeth. "It wasn't...It really wasn't right, for them to be hung there, just because they were attacked."

The officer tapped her pen against the desk, then scribbled something down.

"You knew that girl?" she asked.

"She was my dorm mate."

The officer nodded, looking through the papers she had brought.

"You're staying at the third street dormitories, right?"

"Yes. Her name's Minah, code 61599."

"Was."

"Uh?"

"Her name _was_ Minah, code 61599," said the officer distractedly as she jotted more information on the papers she had brought, filling out forms and reports.

Ilah gritted her teeth, while her stomach twisted inside her with rage. She looked away from the officer, her eyes skirting through the rows and rows of typists, focusing on another girl being brought to a different desk at the other end of the room before another officer. She remembered noticing how their eyes had crossed each other's as she had been dragged into the disinfection quarter.

"Did you notice anything abnormal about the girl Minah in the days previous to her attack?"

Ilah sighed and looked back at the officer.

"No," she said.

"Any illnesses? Did she say that she'd had any altercation at work or anywhere else?"

"No, no, nothing. I mean, we worked at the same factory. She hadn't had any issues with anyone. And she was fine. She had a cough that hit her on and off but she had it for a couple years," said Ilah, thinking back and trying to find in her memories if there might have been anything different about her that she'd missed.

"Did she seem to have any changes in her personality or routine?" asked the officer, entwining her fingers and staring at Ilah as if trying to see something inside her mind.

"No. We had the same routine we've had for over a year. Work, sanitation, soup kitchen, and then off to the dormitories. All the same except for trading weeks when we went to the market," said Ilah, huffing in frustration. "Why are you asking me all this? Do you think I killed her? Check my work and trading passes. You'll account for where I was until this morning."

"I checked that. Your movements have all been reviewed and we know you are not her killer."

"Then what killed her? What killed all the people at the tree?" demanded Ilah, her hands clenching into fists over her thighs. She felt as if her rage would burn her from inside. "And why do you let the people string them all up in the tree like that?! It's not right! It's not right for them to hang in there like that!"

The officer narrowed her eyes at Ilah for a moment, then picked up her pen again and kept on noting things down in her papers.

"You have charges against public sanitation and public order, but it is clear you have lost control of your mind due to the shock of your dorm mate's death. You do not recognize her as being dead, and you did not recognize the health risk in touching a dead body. Clearly your mental health is slipping so I will halve your charges, and change the sentence from jail time to therapy hours. Fifty therapy hours and you'll have fifty civil points knocked off your civilian license."

"Fifty?!"

The officer stood up.

"Guard, take her away to complete disinfection."

The guard grabbed Ilah's arm, but she refused to move.

"You didn't answer," she yelled. "What killed her?!"

She was dragged away to the second floor, and thrown into one of the cells where she was to spend the night.

"You'll stay here two days," the guard told her as he slammed the cell closed. "For being annoying."

Ilah kicked at the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this rate, she might end up jailed for a week XD
> 
> Ahhhh, I forgot to mention this but I reactivated my the other day! You can follow me @alex_damien and look at a ton of photos of tarot cards along with all my rants about my upcoming publications. I swear, I'm SO excited about all the stuff I have ready to post, you won't believe it.
> 
> Also, if you guys are enjoying this, please leave a comment or a like! That really means a lot to me!


	4. Chapter 4

Anette Gretten waited with increasing annoyance for the health research officer to arrive with her paperwork. The officer had sent a message apologizing for the delay and saying she would be late, but the sun was already sinking down in the horizon, and she still hadn't arrived.

Anette served herself another cup of wine and looked out the window of the living room in her mansion, pondering if she should make a hassle for her when she arrived. Perhaps she should. These kinds of inefficiencies shouldn't be tolerated.

The doorbell ran and she huffed, standing up with the wine glass on her hand.

"Finally," she muttered, walking towards the entrance hallway, where the officer had been received by one of the maids and was taking off her hat.

"Third level officer Anette, thank you for allowing me this time," she said towards her, bowing slightly.

Anette bowed too. "Something held you up, then?" she commented, leading her into the living room.

"Yes," said the officer, taking a seat and looking through the files she carried. "There was another attack early this morning. We're dating it for about two in the morning of today. The victim was a sixteen year old factory worker of the lower third district. I interrogated her dorm mate, but there weren't any leads again."

Anette gritted her teeth.

"If it happened this morning, there was still time to make an autopsy," she said, and took a sip of her wine.

"Her dorm mate threw away the body. And besides, she had already been found and strung up on the tree by civilians, and they always douse the bodies in disinfectant before hanging them."

Anette shook her head. "Unbelievable," she mused. "It's still happening."

"Corruption is still a problem. The people pay for the guards to look away, but it's only delaying our research," said the officer and handed her the papers with her bloodwork details. "It seems you have not recovered as well as expected from the latest study performed on you. Doctor Lorran says that he would like to meet with you tomorrow, to see how we can rectify this and improve your recovery."

Anette let her eyes skim through the numbers detailing her health, but she didn't need any numbers. She could feel her body struggling to recover from the pregnancy with clear symptoms of exhaustion and pain.

"At what time?" she asked, setting aside the papers. 

She'd had questions, and she'd wanted details, but as she saw the papers yet again, she felt like she just didn't care anymore. After all, she couldn't recover the same on her seventh pregnancy as she did on her first. There wasn't anything more to ask of her body, much less at her age.

"Noon will be fine," said the officer. "Do you have any questions?"

"No. I'll be there," said Anette, and downed the rest of her wine.

She guided the officer back to the door, suddenly wanting her out of her house right away. A heaviness settled down on her limbs and she wanted so bad to just lay down and not have to think.

She closed the door and stepped up the curved staircase towards her room. At the top of the stairs she heard noises behind her and looked down.

There was nothing.

She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. As she closed her eyes, she could see in her mind, a flash of movement. A flash of death and blood.

She opened her eyes, and kept walking.

Behind her, she heard steps climbing up the white marble steps, and she looked back.

There was nothing there.

A smile pulled at the corners of her lips.

"Ah, again so fast?" she asked to the empty floor below.

The sounds of piano music drifted up through the silence of the mansion and she shook her head, still smiling.

She walked back down the steps and towards the piano room, following the soft music notes. She opened the double doors of the room and entered to see the black piano silent and alone.

Unmoving at the center of the room, it's black surface seemed to taunt her. As if it knew the things that happened inside her head. As if it knew all the things she refused to acknowledge.

She sat down at the piano and touched one of the keys, sending a louder sound than she remembered. It broke the silence into pieces, the sound pressing around her, as if demanding for her to talk.

"Seven...," she mused, and took a deep breath. "I never expected seven. The first, that one I didn't want. She had no name. The second, I kind of wanted, and I would have named her Sarah. Although a more modern name would be Sinah. The third..."

She heard noise behind her, on the other side of the great window to the side of the room.

She looked outside at the shadows projected by the lights inside against the darkness outside. Something moved outside. Something looked back.

"Ma'am?" asked one of the maids at the door, bowing at her. "The lead of the second set of guards called. They will be here in an hour."

"Hmm? More guards?" she asked while standing up and moving towards the window.

Her reflection looked back at her from the glass and she smiled again. Oh, there she was. There she was. She could see the fear in her own face now, and her lips moved into a predatory smirk.

"The party headquarters recommended them, after the attack from this morning," mentioned the maid.

"Hmmm, that's understandable. I'll receive them," said Anette. "More attacks are happening lately. It's...interesting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anette is such a difficult character for me to portray. She has a dark mind that I recoil from instinctively. I prefer getting into Ilah's mind, which is more active and angrier, and in a way more innocent.
> 
> But I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! If you did, please consider leaving a like or a comment, it would mean a lot to me.
> 
> And remember, you can talk to me on my insta @alex_damien, or read my other original works on my wattpad @alxdamien, and for updates (as well as my experiences with channeling spirit messages) you can go to my blog alexdamien.wordpress.com


	5. Chapter 5

Ilah had been at the kitchen queue for a while when Sushal arrived, still in her dirty uniform and carrying her usual cloth bag with her lunch.

“How are you doing? What did they do to you?” she demanded from Ilah, who moved away from the wall where she’d been leaning.

“I’m fine,” she lied, rubbing at her face. It felt as if the cold seeped into her skin even deeper. “They just disinfected me and knocked some points off my card.”

Sushal sighed. “It’s not like you have points to spare,” she said with a shake of her head. “But at least you won’t be going to jail. I’ve seen people get thrown in jail for less than that.”

“The officer thought I’d gone mad for a while. I have to go to therapy now,” said Ilah, “That’ll be hard to explain at the factory, but I’m gonna try my luck.”

“You rely on your luck much. It’s bound to run out,” said Sushal.

The red light of the setting sun hit her face, highlighting the sharp edges of her face, the hollowness of her cheeks, and for a moment Ilah’s breath caught on her throat as she saw why her mother had worried about Sushal eating.

Ilah looked away and kept advancing with the queue, for a moment wondering how to address the fact that Sushal seemed to be wasting away so fast now.

Or could it be that she had been wasting away long before now, and she had ignored all signs of it, the same as what had happened with Minah.

Minah’s face flashed through her mind, and she flinched at the pain that she felt in her chest.

“Are you alright?” asked, Sushal, placing a boney hand on Ilah’s back. “Did the guards beat you up?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” said Ilah, straightening. They kept advancing. “I’m just tired. I need a good night’s sleep.”

“I wish you could stay with us. You shouldn’t be alone now.”

“Nah, I won’t. They’ll fill Min- uh, the place at my room soon. I saw a bunch of new arrivals to the city at the Disinfection center.”

“I think it’s because of all the attacks. I’ve heard that there are far, far more outside the city.”

They reached the front of the line and each got bowls of soup served inside a round piece of bread. The warmth of it in her hands made Ilah feel a bit better. She looked down at it and saw a few carrots and turnips floating around, with tiny bits of potatoes here and there.

“You want to sit down at the overhang in seventh street to eat?” asked Ilah, looking around to see if there was anywhere better to sit down to eat around, but all the crates and boxes around seemed to be occupied.

Sushal placed her own soup filled bread inside the empty basket she carried and handed it to Ilah.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sushal…”

“I ate at the factory. I just wanted to see how you were doing, but I have to go now. Take mine, that way you have breakfast for tomorrow. They’ll probably cut your rations now that you got less points.”

“I’ll be fine, but you-“

“I have food at home. And you know I don’t…I don’t like to eat in public,” said Sushal, with a nervous air of finality to her voice. “Look for me tomorrow after morning shift. I’ll get out a bit late, but we can walk back together. Now I have to go.”

With that, Sushal patted Ilah’s arm and left, her small form vanishing among the throngs of people now walking back home after their work shifts.

Ilah sighed, looking down at the bread bowl in the basket, and wondered what she could do not. She didn’t feel like she had any energy to do anything other than drag her pained body back to the dormitories, but at the same time, a small alarm seemed to be ringing at the back of her mind. Warning, fearing, that danger was right around the corner. That danger was waiting yet again, to pluck everyone around her, one by one. Waiting. Expecting her. Ready to lash out from around every corner.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and placed her own bread bowl next to Sushal’s in the basket. If she let her thoughts get out of control, it would only exhaust her even more, so she decided to stop thinking, and instead just focus on placing one feet after the other, making her way forward into the girls dormitories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing on this story has gone surprisingly slow. I dunno, maybe it's because I'm working on such a new genre for myself that I don't feel comfortable to let go as usual, but I really want to write faster here. Still, I hope you guys are enjoying it and as always, you can find me here:
> 
> Blog: alexdamien.wordpress.com  
> Insta: @alex_damien  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alxdamien  
> Wattpad: @alxdamien


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